First Kiss and Giveaway with Georgia Fox and The Wagered Wench

Welcome to my newest First Kiss Spotlight!!  Today I have Georgia Fox with me and she is going to share an excerpt and a giveaway of her newest book The Wagered Wench.  But first, let's take a look at the book details:

Blurb:

As her father's only child, Elsinora must take a husband to help her run the manor of Lyndower. Although capable of managing the place herself, no one trusts a woman to lead. She can be a wife and mother, nothing more. But she's determined to choose the man for herself and she has just the one in mind—handsome, clever, chivalrous and kind-hearted.

She hasn't met him yet, but he's out there. Somewhere.

However, when her father returns home drunk one evening after a game of tavern dice, Elsinora soon discovers that sobering him up is not her only problem this time. The scarred Norman beast with the crude manners and insulting tongue—the one who brought her father home slung over the rump of his horse, has won not only the manor of Lyndower as his prize after a night of gambling. He's also won Elsinora.

Be Warned: anal sex, menage sex (m/f/m), public exhibition (YES YES YES)!!!!!!  Love that cover!! Here are the links to where you can buy your own copy, if you don't win it here!!

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-wagered-wench-by-georgia-fox/

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0074AVM4C/spea06-20#customerReviews

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thewageredwench-677250-161.html

And now for a tastey teaser!!!

Her mouth, she realized belatedly, flapped wide open. Pulling

herself together, she exclaimed, "You try to tell me you would be a

faithful husband content with one woman? Do I look like a fool?"

            "I do not try telling you anything, woman. I tell."

            She folded her arms. "I know about men and their need to sow

seed widely."

            "What means this?" He scowled now, the faint smile gone. He

moved closer to where she stood. "Speak plain woman and not in

riddles."

            He wanted plain words? She'd give him plain. "Women do not

want a man as often as a man wants a woman. Men are beasts who

enjoy fucking more than women do. That is why men can never be

satisfied with one partner. A sensible wife encourages her husband to

take mistresses, so that she may have peace from his crude fumblings

and the constant toil of childbirth."

            As she spoke he advanced again, each one of her angry words

apparently drawing him in rather than chasing him away as she'd

hoped. With every forward step he took, Elsinora backed up. His eyes

were hot, hard. "And what gives you all this knowledge of men and

fucking? Your father assured me you are a maid. Is this not so?" He

stared at her crossly, branding her again with his mark of ownership.

"Tell me now if you are not."

            Aha! This would be her chance to chase him off, but before

she could speak, he added in a calmer tone, "Not that it matters. I

should like to be warned, however."

            She stumbled back. He followed again.

            Don't think of the way his body fits inside those breeches.

            Look at his scar instead and remember how ugly he is, how he

frightened you last night when he loomed out of the dark.

            He raised his hand and captured her chin, his thumb pressed to

her lips, the ring on his finger cold against her jaw. She tried to pull

away but found herself trapped by a low stone wall. On the other side

of it there was the dung heap. The Norman widened his stance,

penning her in against the wall. His thumb pressed down on her lower

lip and then his mouth claimed hers.

            She raised her knee between his legs but he was ready for her.

Showing off his warrior's reflexes he dropped his tunic and blocked

her thigh with his free hand, pushing it down and then sliding

immediately between her legs. Her gown was in his way, but he

fondled her through the material, trying to work an insistent finger

through the weave. She gasped, and as her mouth opened he thrust his

tongue into her mouth, taking it roughly. Elsinora tasted his

breakfast—ale and something else—mint leaves? He must have been

down to the herb garden early this morning and plucked mint for his

breath. Few men she knew would bother.

            "I'll see for myself if you are virgin," he growled into her lips.

            She was too shocked to fight. Yes, that must be the reason

why she went limp and let him kiss her again. Let him lift her gown

aside and push his hand between her legs to touch her quinny. The

stone wall pressed into her lower back, but he did not care apparently

about her discomfort. When the callused pad of his finger slipped

between her labia, she almost forgot about it too.

            This was a secluded corner of the yard and wreathed in

shadow as the morning sun, not yet reaching its highest point, moved

around behind the buildings. Here no one came unless to heave a

barrow of dung after cleaning out the barns and stables, but that

would not be done again until evening. Spring plowing had just begun

in the fields however, and the manure would occasionally be fetched

by cart, so there remained a small chance of being disturbed. Her

heart kept a scattered pace, her gaze shifting to the corner of the barn

over his shoulder, watching just in case.

            He stroked her daisy, working it with a gentle fingertip. Again

his lips covered hers, kissing her as she'd never been kissed, not even

by Stryker Bloodaxe. His tongue wound itself around hers, tugging

and insistent. He moved closer, his strong muscular thighs holding

hers apart while his hand explored her pussy. She imagined her

mother's voice, scolding and harsh as it was most often, telling her to

stop him.

            Elsinora what are you doing? Down on your knees, this

instant, and repent girl. Repent!

            But how could she get down on her knees with this man's hand

between her thighs?

            When his lips released hers, she glanced downward and saw

the stiff bulge in his breeches.

            "Stop," she gasped belatedly.

            His fingertip was poised within her. He waited, breathing

hard, his eyes black, staring down into hers.

            She perused his scarred cheek, her conscience trying to remind

her of his evil. But a spark of wanton desire and curiosity flamed

inside her loins, too hot to be ignored. "Oh, very well then. See for

yourself if I am a maid. Have your proof. If you must."

            At once his finger moved further and she tensed against the

intrusion. She stared at the muscle flexing in his shoulder and felt the

finger at the end of that arm penetrating her another short distance

until he felt her hymen. Finally he pronounced, "No man has been

here."

            "Now let me go, filthy swine!"

            He chuckled and she felt that too, tickling her tender petals.

            She gasped. "Just like any other Norman pig, forcing himself

on a woman."

            He leaned back a little, but kept his hand on her sex, his finger

in her damp cleft. "I will not take your virgin blood unless you are my

wife. And then you will be my only woman, from that moment on, as

I told you once already."

            "Of course!" She turned her face away. "You'll never look at

another pair of titties"

            "I might look. I might even admire, but I won't touch. Not

once I have a lawful wife. This I swear."

            "I don't know why you bother telling me this," she groaned, as

he worked his finger lightly and teasingly over her blossoming flower.

            "I don't care what you do with your cock, Norman." She wanted to

run away, but her legs felt useless. The heat he conjured between her

thighs was fierce, scalding, mesmerizing. His entire hand possessed

her now, the heel of his palm pressed into her pubic mound. Slowly

and carefully he added a second finger to the first.

            He leaned over her again, watching her lips as if they were a

small treat held out and he a mastiff fixated on that promise.

"Remember my name?" he growled. "Coeur du Loup. Heart of the

Wolf."

            Elsinora had not known what his name meant, but she

shrugged, trying to ignore the fingertips sliding in and out of her now,

slick with the wetness of her passionate, shameful arousal. His touch

was far more tender than the stream and yet the sensations he lured

out of her were much deeper, much hotter.

So what can you do to win a copy of this yummy read?  Just fill out the Rafflecopter!!!

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